The Whole Truth by James Scott Bell Page B

restrictions. Johnny must have been a model prisoner.
    â€œYou do have a search condition,” Steve said. “They can work with the local departments and search you or drug test you without probable cause.”
    â€œThis is worse than North Korea!”
    â€œWhat is the local situation here? You have run-ins with the sheriff or anything?”
    Johnny and Neal exchanged looks. “Mott? He’s been around forever. He doesn’t hassle us. No need. We keep to ourselves.”
    â€œAs long as you’re not doing anything wrong — ”
    â€œWho says we’re doing anything wrong?”
    â€œNobody — ”
    â€œThen don’t put it that way.”
    Silence. A little wind blew through the pines. Johnny put on an easy smile.
    â€œDo what you can to get me legitimized,” he said. “I’m going to have a ministry and we’re going to need a good lawyer. There’s guys in the flock who still have some legal troubles. Maybe you can help them too. And as an organization, I’ll need somebody I can trust, really trust. That’s why I’ve come to you, Steve. God has given you to me.”
    Ezekiel barked. Loud. Startling Steve. Someone was coming out the back door.

NINETEEN
    He was someone out of the biker outlaw hall of fame.
    He had a hacksaw face and arms forged, no doubt, in a prison yard. If he wanted to advertise his ex-felon status, Steve thought he couldn’t have done it any better. A lot of exes, who could no longer vote and knew they’d never get very far in society, let it be known they didn’t give a rip. This guy was one of them, from his sleeveless T-shirt to the jeans and boots.
    Johnny didn’t seem all that happy to see him.
    â€œThis your brother?” the guy said.
    â€œWhat are you doing here, Rennie?” Johnny said.
    â€œI gotta have a reason to come over?”
    Rennie met Steve’s eyes with a cold steel gaze. It could have been Cody Messina, all grown up and worse than ever. For a long moment he looked Steve up and down. If he was a member in good standing of Johnny’s “church,” Steve was going to have to say something about the social customs being taught.
    â€œHey, OK, Rennie,” Johnny said, “this is my brother Steve.”
    Rennie didn’t offer his hand.
    â€œHi,” Steve said.
    A simple nod from Rennie, who then looked at Neal with an expression Steve couldn’t quite read, but didn’t fall on the friendly side of the ledger. There were tense crosscurrents all over the place. Ezekiel watched, ready to spring any second, like he expected fresh meat.
    Rennie said nothing more, then turned and walked over to the dog. The dog started jumping around. Rennie knelt and put the dog’s head in his hands. The dog started licking Rennie’s face.
    â€œFriendly sort,” Steve said, quietly so Rennie wouldn’t hear.
    â€œRennie’s a work in progress,” Johnny said.
    Rennie got up and walked back into the house, the dog barking.
    â€œZeke!” Johnny shouted. “Shut up!”
    The chastened dog did as he was told. Johnny, who seemed to have unchallenged authority over people, apparently had the same over the animal world.
    Johnny said, “God. He’s just amazing. You’re here. We’re together. This is just awesome. Now I got a question for you, little bro.”
    Steve waited.
    â€œWhat happened to you after I got kidnapped? I mean, what was your life like?”
    â€œNot a real smooth ride,” Steve said.
    â€œCan you tell me about it?”
    â€œI don’t know. Our dad killed himself. Did you know about that?”
    Johnny nodded slowly. “You remember much about him?”
    Steve shook his head. “Mom didn’t talk about him much. Once she said something about his being no good and I was better off. But I don’t think she ever got over losing you. She died when I was ten. Bad cancer. Did you know about